Saturday, February 7, 2009

My Valentine

I had something else planned for today's blog entry, but reading the previous entries has put me in mind of my first date with my husband, which happened to occur on Valentine's Day.  Not because we had some romantic evening planned, but because that happened to be the night of the big Feminist Film Festival at the university we both attended.  

He had been trying to get me to go out with him for a couple of weeks, but I wasn't in the mood to get involved at the time. I had been less than lucky in love previously, and decided I needed a break from relationships for a while.  This man attracted me, and I knew very well that dating him was going to be like eating peanuts.  I wasn't going to be able to stop with just one.

But he was persistent, enough so that I began to think that he was actually interested in something more than a fling.  So I decided that it would be safe enough to meet him at a university function and go for coffee afterwards.

So, in what might be called a final test of his resolve, (or perhaps in a fit of perversion), I asked him if he wanted to meet me at the Feminist Film Festival on Valentine's Day (this was the 1970s, after all).  He jumped at it.  I was stunned.  Afterwards, we walked over to a local pizza joint and spent hours over a pie. We had a wonderful time.  And the rest is history.

1 comment:

Dana Fredsti said...

What a wonderful first date story! I hope the pizza was good. :-)